Guilt
by stephomi
Summary: When left alone for too long, the mind begins to wander in dangerous directions.


Fandom: Lord of the Flies  
Title: Guilt  
Characters: Ralph, Simon, brief mentions of others  
Summary: When left alone for too long, the mind begins to wander in dangerous directions.  
Warnings: Thoughts of suicide, spoilers for the book  
Disclaimer: The characters and plot of 'Lord of the Flies' belong to William Golding. The sentences in _italics_ contained in the brackets are extracts from the novel and in no way belong to me.

I may have written Ralph to be out-of-character, but I hope you'll forgive me. I wrote this in the present tense as I thought it would be more effective that way...well, actually, I didn't intentionally choose this tense. It just sounded right.

I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

_**Nothing is more wretched than the mind of a man conscious of guilt.**_

_**- Titus Maccius Plautus**_

* * *

Sometimes Ralph thinks he can see Simon's face in the lagoon.

The boy's expression is a reflection of pain, betrayal, _pleading_.

(_Simon was crying out something about a dead man on a hill._)

And it's just so horrifying, gruesome and so his fault. He can still see the white-blue flashes in the stormy sky. He can still see the painted faces of the boys. He can still hear the chanting ringing through the air. And it's so his fault.

(_The beast was on its knees in the centre, its arms folded over its face. It was crying out against the abominable noise something about a body on the hill._)

Ralph wants to walk away; to look away from the face of a dead boy. But he can't. He's stuck there, every time, staring down at the boy he killed. Ralph's scared – but so is Simon. And he feels tears rolling down his cheeks. He sees Simon's face distort as the droplets hit the water's surface. It's fitting, he knows, since they've all become twisted in a way.

(_There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws._)

Ralph wonders what happened to the orderly choir boys led by a proud, if slightly spiteful (but never _cruel_, never _savage_), red-haired schoolboy. He wonders why it's all turned out like this; where everything had gone so terribly _wrong_.

He entertains the idea of ending it there. Right then. He's heard that when you drown, the pain stops right near the end, and you feel happy. Ralph hasn't been happy in such a long time.

But he dismisses it. He can't leave Piggy alone. Not with those warped and malformed creatures he cannot even remember the names of.

(_The crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore._)

Ralph half wishes he knew what had happened to Simon's body. He might have been able to say sorry; apologise for everything, _beg_ for forgiveness even though he knows he doesn't deserve it.

(_"Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"_)

And he's still so scared. He's terrified, petrified. He can feel every _thump_ of his heart as it beats against his chest. He's so tense. He hasn't been relaxed since that time so long ago with Piggy and their new conch. He hasn't slept properly in days; plagued by nightmares of malicious smiles as they bear down upon him, teeth dripping with blood. He wakes up each time soaked in sweat, his already filthy shorts soiled.

Ralph's fist suddenly punches the water and Simon's accusing face disappears in a violent splash. He's surprised, having been unaware of his growing anger. He feels a stinging sensation in his knuckles. Lifting the hand to his face, he is vaguely aware of blood seeping out from a noticeable gash. He's entranced by the crimson liquid as it trickles down his hand, then his arm and finally into the water, where it gradually spreads. He cannot wash his hands of Simon's death here.

(_"That was murder."_)

He wonders if Simon, the boy who had seemed so bizarre, would think him odd if he saw him now.

He remembers their conversation that one time.

(_"You'll get back all right. I think so anyway."_)

He remembers calling the boy batty.

(_"No, I'm not. I just think you'll get back all right-."_)

And it suddenly occurs to him that maybe Simon had known about his death all along. The boy had only mentioned that Ralph would be all right, not himself. It's impossible, but Simon had always been different.

(_"Maybe," he said hesitantly, "maybe there is a beast."… "What I mean is…maybe it's only us."_)

But he can't have known, because then he would have hated Ralph. He would have hated his murderer.

(_"You'll get back all right. I think so anyway."_)

Simon had said Ralph would be all right.

(_"That was murder."_)

But Ralph isn't all right. And he doesn't think he ever will be.

* * *

Sometimes Ralph thinks he can see Simon's face in the lagoon.

But somehow it's better than seeing his own.

* * *


End file.
